Page 82 of Building Courage

He matched his stride to hers. His silence weighed on her. He was angry, but he was keeping it tamped down. And that made it worse… He was right. She should have told him about the photos when she’d found them. She should have waited to deliver the others.

Despite the summer heat, the parking structure seemed damp and cold. Chill bumps raced along her arms, and she rubbed them. When she reached her car, she turned to face him. “I’m not used to having anyone to depend on, Tucker. I’m used to figuring things out for myself.”

His strong masculine features were taut with control. “You can be as independent as you want to be, Brynn. If you were helpless and submissive, I wouldn’t be dating you. But after everything Ahmad said the other night…you can’t take chances like this. He may be wrong, but what if he’s right?”

“I’ve been paid for my work. Bryant offered me more work, and I didn’t want to turn him down while he and Tim stood there, looking at me. I don’t want to have any more contact with Bryant or his employees. I thought it would be easier to say I didn’t have time on the phone rather than say it in the office.”

He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Bryant knows where you live. By taking pictures of the Titan, you may have made them nervous. And you just dropped pictures off at the police station. What if Tim was following you when you made that stop?”

“They don’t know I dropped pictures off. I could’ve been there to pay a parking ticket.”

“They’ll know if the police start nosing around and mention they identified the boat and the men on board through pictures.”

“You don’t have to try and scare me, Tucker. I’m already aware of all of this. A woman is dead. I had to give them the pictures. I didn’t feel like I had a choice.”

He pulled her close. “I don’t want to scare you, Brynn. I want to protect you. But I can’t be with you every moment of the day, so I need you to be careful. I really admire that you’re trying to do the right thing, but part of me wishes your instinct for self-preservation had overruled your conscience.”

“Would yours have?” she asked.

She watched as frustration worked across his face. “In battle, yes, always. Survival is everything. In my personal life…I made a mistake, and I learned from it.”

She suddenly realized he was talking about the Marine and his adulterous wife. “I didn’t mean that, Tucker. I wasn’t thinking of that.”

He cut her off. “I’m parked down on the street. Drop me at my car, and I’ll follow you home.”

Regret bloomed inside her as he went around the car to get in, and she hit the button to unlock it. He got into the passenger seat, and she had no choice but to get behind the wheel.

“My car’s just down the block on the right.”

She started the car and backed out.

Chapter 23

‡

He stewed about what she’d said all the way to her apartment. The moment she’d said it, his thoughts had gone to that one decision he’d made and always regretted. Damn it. He needed to warn the guy about what his wife was doing, but would he be doing it to rid himself of the guilt or for the guy’s benefit?

Or would it benefit them both?

By the time he pulled into the parking lot beside her, he’d decided to put aside the debate for a later time. He helped her unload the car. While she looped the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder, he grabbed her camera bag. As soon as they exited the elevator on her floor, he heard the sound of shattering glass coming from somewhere down the hall. Brynn paused outside of Martin’s apartment and looked back at him. The sound came again, sharp and jarring, from behind the door. She rushed to it and fumbled with her purse.

When she withdrew a key, Tucker plucked it from her fingers. “Let me do it. Stay behind me.” He set the camera bag down against the wall.

Tucker started to insert the key, but the door swung open a crack. The lock was broken, and from the looks of it, the door had been kicked in. Standing to one side, out of the line of fire, he opened it. A dark-haired man stood in the middle of the living room, a glass object with a wooden base raised high over his head. He paused in mid-motion and glared at him. “Who the hell are you?”

Tucker took in the destruction the man had inflicted upon the room. “Call the police, Brynn.”

She whipped out her phone and dialed. “I’d like to report a break-in. My neighbor’s boyfriend has broken into his apartment and trashed it. It looks as though he has systematically destroyed everything in the living room.” She rattled off the building address and apartment number.

“I didn’t break in. I have a key,” Tate said, edging toward the door. His eyes appeared glassy, his pupils pinpoints.

Tucker glanced at the broken lock. “Doesn’t look like you used a key to me. Destruction of private property is a crime. And from the looks of things, there’s several thousand dollars in damages here. If the property value is high enough, you’ll go to jail and stay there.” Tucker leaned casually against the doorframe, blocking the man’s escape. “Where’s Martin? If he’s lying injured inside this apartment, you’ll go down for assault.”

“He’s not here. I left him at the spa.” Tate edged toward the door.

“Call him, Brynn. Make sure he’s okay.”

She dialed the number, and a phone rang inside the apartment. “Oh my God,” Brynn breathed. “Martin never goes anywhere without his phone.” She rushed to enter the apartment, but Tucker braced an arm on the door frame, blocking her way.

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